Jupiter
by midnightneverland
Summary: Max doesn't know what her relationship with Warren could be labeled as. She's not so sure she wants to label it. But after a pregnancy scare, she realizes she has to come to terms with it sooner or later. Somehow, they'll figure it out. (Rated M for slight sexual content.)


It started with Jupiter, a dull ember beneath the moon. Max spotted it even before Warren's finger swept across the sky, pointing it out. She pulled her coat closer, trying to ignore the bite of the February air. Beside her, Warren rambled off facts like an astronomy encyclopedia.

"It's beautiful," she said as soon as he'd paused for breath. "It's too bad we can't see it up close."

Warren coughed out a laugh. The air was so cold that it burned if they breathed too sharply. "Sorry," he said, "I don't have access to that that kind of telescope."

She leaned against him before she even noticed she was doing it—reaching for something to block the cold.

His arms wrapped around her, almost hesitantly. "Too cold?" he asked and she could feel his breath against the top of her head, just as warm as the rest of him.

"Not too bad," she lied, tilting her head to see Jupiter from a different angle. It looked no different than the stars surrounding it—bigger, maybe, and more orange, a glowing cat's eye. But Warren stared wide-eyed in wonder, already looking as distant as the planet far above them.

He let his arms drop, rubbing his palms together to warm them. "I should have brought gloves," he muttered and Max turned to study his hoodie. "I knew we wouldn't be out here too long," he added before she could argue.

"Or did you just want to see how long you could go before your hands fell off?" she teased. She grabbed hold of his hands, so much longer than hers, but he curled them into fists beneath her gloved palms.

His eyes dipped towards hers, surprised.

It was the little things that nudged them closer, like pebbles falling one by one from a pile before Max found herself surrounded in them. She had told him once she'd wanted to stay friends but she found herself drifting closer to him, anyway.

She squeezed his hands gently.

"Max," he began, worrying at his lip, and the second her lips parted to answer, his were edging towards hers.

Soft, hesitant, pushing towards eager.

Kissing was a lot like learning to hold her breath underwater, Max found. Her lips fumbled clumsily against his before she took a breath and tried again.

It didn't take them long to find their rhythm.

"Do you want to see it up close?" Warren asked against her lips. "Jupiter?"

"With what telescope?" Max countered and he gave a low chuckle.

"Come on," he urged, pulling her back towards the dorms.

It was tricky, sneaking out at night, but even trickier to sneak back in. Warren stood in front of her, arm poised against her chest to keep her still. They leaned against the wall while waiting for the murmur of whoever was on patrol to fade away. Max kept her breathing in check with Warren's—low, quiet pulls of her chest that made her feel dizzy.

And then they were off again, her scrambling to keep up with him as they slipped through the main doors and towards his dorm.

"Made it," he panted. He leaned against his door, Max heaving for breath beside him.

It took him a moment to load the site on his laptop but then he twirled the screen to face her and a 3D Jupiter stared back at her. "Not the same, I know," he said, "but you can pretend."

"Can you go anywhere else?" she asked, dragging the mouse across the screen. Jupiter spun around lazily before them.

"Anywhere," he said with a shrug. "Although if you venture too far out, there's just stars in the distance."

She clicked on the screen, dragging randomly across the planets until she'd reached the boundary of stars. "So, by anywhere, you mean anywhere within a box of space."

He shrugged again, the hint of a smile on his face, and leaned back against his bed. "The box is only as small as you want it to be."

It struck her suddenly, how small his room was. She had been here a hundred times and it had barely been anything but an extension of Warren—the walls geeked out in cult classic posters and cringeworthy puns, shelves of trophies and collectibles, a bookshelf crammed so full of books, they were stacked in piles above the top shelf.

But now everything felt shoved together, compressed. When she perched herself on the foot of the bed, Warren leaned towards her and kissed her again, his arms braced against her sides, his thighs pressing against her calves.

"It seems you're trapped," he teased, pulling away slightly, "unless you feel like sneaking past another round of security."

"I'm feeling adventurous," she replied, but didn't move. Her smile felt frozen.

Warren raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to slide down and when she didn't, he laughed nervously.

"What exactly," he swallowed thickly, "did you have in mind?"

She didn't answer, leaning back to build space between them.

He leaned forward instead, his other eyebrow hiking higher than the first. "Max," he prompted. He gestured between them. "What are we? What's this?"

She shrugged and scooted back till her back hit the wall beside his bed. "I don't know," she whispered. "What do you want to be?"

He let out a breath of laughter and climbed up beside her, his knee knocking into hers. "I've just spent the past few months reevaluating what 'friends,' means and you spring this on me."

"Can we figure it out?" she asked.

He leaned towards her again, cupping her face as he kissed her.

She could feel his smile against her lips.

"Yeah. Yeah, we can," he mumbled before kissing her again.

Dating Warren felt exactly like hanging out with him did, save for the times his arm slid around her while they were watching movies, or the way he ended arguments with kisses so that she was laughing into his mouth. She still got the last word.

In fact, dating Warren felt nothing at all like hanging out with him. She hadn't even wanted to call it that, but the next time they were at the drive-in, his arm around her and slipping into the pocket of her hoodie, her head tucked beneath his chin, she didn't know what else it could be. It wasn't just hanging out when his fingers trailed over her knuckles or he pulled her into his lap to kiss her. It wasn't just hooking up when they went out for dinner beforehand or stayed up till three a.m. watching movies. And then, when Max had told him not to come one Friday night because she and Kate were studying, he'd asked to join just for the company.

"Can't a guy just hang out with his girl...uh, you?" he'd asked and Max had stopped replacing the film in her camera, hand in mid-air as she glanced over at him. "I mean," he hurried on, his cheeks tinged pink, "whatever we are. No pressure."

Her fingers shook as she struggled to put the film in, but she shrugged as if he'd asked her if it looked like rain. "Well," she said and Warren took the camera from her, setting it gently on the desk behind her.

"Can we figure it out?" he asked.

"Yeah, we can," she said, kissing him lightly.

"So," Chloe said, cracking her knuckles as if she were about to pick up the table rather than lay her cards upon it. "What's the deal with you and geek boy? You are surprisingly quiet about the details and I'm dying from suspense."

"There's no deal," Max replied, laying her own cards down and frowning at Chloe's hand. "We're just...together."

"Like bumping uglies together or something serious together?"

"Chloe," Max scolded and Chloe shrugged, shuffling the cards into the deck again.

"It's not that hard to figure out."

Max sighed and pushed away from the table, done with poker, done with the conversation.

"I mean, do you like him?" Chloe persisted. "Enough to where you don't have to put a bag over his head while you're at it?"

"Chloe," Max warned again and Chloe set the cards down, the deck fanning out onto the table as it fell.

Max paused, her hands loose around the bars of the chair backing. "I don't know," she admitted, licking the dryness from her lips. "It's just...Warren. I don't really want things to be different."

"It's not really like they're the same," Chloe pointed out.

Max laid her forehead against the chair and sighed. "No, they're really not."

Max sat nestled in Warren's lap, her eyes weighing closed. She could feel the tension in the muscles of his arms as he jostled the controller. She blinked a couple of times, trying to stay awake but she was fighting a losing battle.

"Hey," he said softly, elbowing her in the ribs. Her eyes shot open again. "You can't fall asleep on me now. We're getting to the good part."

She squinted at the screen in front of them. "Warren, you've played Resident Evil 2 a dozen times. You already know what's going to happen."

"Doesn't make it any less good," he argued and she laughed sleepily. "Max," he chided when her eyes had fallen shut again. He rested his hand on her side and it crept along the hem of her shirt, fingers just barely brushing the skin beneath.

"Hmm?" she asked, one eye open.

He smirked down at her. His hand trailed higher, one finger dipping into her navel.

She shot straight up, nearly bashing her head against his chin.

He chuckled softly but kept his hand against her stomach, drumming his fingers as he turned his attention back towards the cutscene on the screen.

It was much more difficult to fall asleep with his fingers tapping against her skin, but it wasn't any easier to focus on the game either.

His fingers inched their way upwards, slowly enough that Max thought she was imagining it at first. His eyes were still glued to the screen so with a smirk of her own, she tilted her head and pressed a kiss towards the base of his throat.

She could feel his breath catch and she trailed her lips upwards, along the bottom of his chin, and finally his lips.

His fingers had stopped drumming against her and were seeking higher again, along her ribcage, toying with the wire of her bra.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him closer, her lips moving urgently against his.

The controller clattered beside him as he dropped it. He used his other arm to prop him up as he leaned into her kiss.

"I think you're dead," she pointed out and he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a small moan from her.

"I've played this a dozen times," he reminded before his lips traveled towards her ear, tongue swirling lightly against the lobe.

She groaned against his neck, her fingers knotting in his hair. Any other sense of coherent language had disappeared.

"Hang on," he whispered, scooting back and rising shakily to his feet. He grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her up as well before claiming her lips again. He tugged her towards his bed, sending her crashing beneath him. He yanked open his nightstand drawer, fumbling inside.

"Shit," he said and leaned over to examine the drawer better.

"What?" she mumbled against his neck, sucking on the skin there.

He whimpered and his hand slammed into the side of the drawer. "Hang on," he repeated, "I can't think when you—" He yelped when she nipped at his throat and pulled away from her, eyes glazed over. "Minor problem," he choked out, dodging her attempts to pull him back towards her. "Major problem, actually. I'm out of condoms."

"How are you out of condoms?" she asked, bewildered. She peered over him to inspect the drawer herself.

"Well, I only got the one box and I didn't think we'd go through it that quickly." His cheeks flushed scarlet. "Okay. Okay, let me think. I guess I could always ask...god, this is embarrassing."

Max's mind reeled on its own accord, counting the days of her cycle. "Maybe we'll be okay. I think I'm pretty far out of the danger window," she considered, but a flare of panic went through her as she thought of Dana. She bet Dana had imagined she'd be okay, as well.

"Okay, wait. I think I have one in my wallet. It's kind of old though."

"Can they get old?" Max asked and watched as he scrambled for his wallet and came back victorious.

"I don't know. It's better than nothing though." Warren hesitated, fingers skimming along her back and Max felt her eyes slip closed again.

She was close enough to her period for it not to matter, she thought, or tried to think as Warren's lips seemed to chase after her pulse, suckling her neck at almost the same spot she'd just claimed on him a moment ago.

"We're good then," she murmured, but his hands were already at the button her pants, and she was grinding against his knee, and again, all other coherent language had vanished.

"Tuna?" Chloe asked, waving the sandwich in front of Max's face.

Max gagged and turned away from the booth, all of her appetite completely gone.

"I thought you liked tuna," Chloe mused. She bit into the sandwich and Max shuddered.

"Not today," Max replied. _Or this whole week,_ she thought. She hadn't had much of an appetite for anything lately and the tuna smelled too much like garbage. She pulled her hoodie over her face so she wouldn't have to smell it any longer.

"Well, you can have mine then. That's what happens when you show up late and your best friend has to order for you." Chloe gave her a pointed stare, which Max just rolled her eyes at.

"What are you talking about? You're always late. I hope no one ever has to ever set a clock by you or they'd be screwed."

"I defy the powers of time. I'm awesome like that," Chloe retorted. She took a last bite of her sandwich and dusted the crumbs from her hands. "You gonna eat?"

"Not really hungry," Max said and stifled a yawn. "I was actually thinking of heading back and grabbing a quick nap before going out with Warren."

"Dude." Chloe raised an eyebrow, slamming her soda can onto the table. "You just showed up after sleeping in. How can you possibly need more sleep?"

"I don't know. I'm just really tired lately. Too much studying or something." Max shrugged, but a small flare of panic was building up in her chest again. She _was_ really tired lately, and nauseous, and cranky, and she'd been keeping a hawk's eye on the calendar since she and Warren had goofed up and the condom had broke. She was already three days late.

But she was out of the danger window. She'd counted the days repeatedly, until she was counting calendar boxes in her sleep. It didn't make sense to be pregnant now, when they'd done it barely a week before she was due. And while her period was never precise, if it was off, it was usually early.

"What? Is there something in my drink?" Chloe asked, peering down into her can as Max gaped at her. "What the hell is it because that face is kinda scary. Max?"

Max jerked backwards as Chloe waved in front of her face. "No. No, no no. _No._ " She shook her head rapidly and now it was Chloe's turn to gape at her.

"Uh, you okay over there?"

"Chloe...have you ever gotten done something really stupid because you got caught up in the moment?"

Chloe stared back at her, eyebrow raised again as she smirked.

"Okay, stupid question. But I think...I mean I could...Warren and I..."

"Max," Chloe said slowly, both of her eyebrows raised now. "You and Warren have been safe, right? Like no tickling the pickle without protection, right?"

Max was too horrified to even groan at the pun. "Yeah," she replied and Chloe sighed in relief. "Except once."

"Okay, once is not being safe," Chloe groaned. "Once is definitely _unsafe._ Once is 'oops, gonna have a kid before I get to college; well, that was fun' unsafe. Once is 'say goodbye to never being able to sneeze without peeing your pants' unsafe. Once is—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Max interrupted, but she was thinking that if she was pregnant, sneezing without peeing herself was the least of her problems.

If she was pregnant.

God, she was a dead woman. Dead and buried and killed again as a zombie.

"I have to go," she blurted, jumping up so quickly she banged her knees against the table.

"Hey." She turned back to face Chloe. "Call me later. You know, if you need anything." Chloe met her gaze somberly.

It brought a slight smile to Max's face, even as everything else felt as if it were crashing around her. "Yeah, definitely."

She ran out the door, barely hearing it jingle behind her as she headed for the bus stop.

"Hey, where's the fire?" Warren called out beside her, slowing his car down to keep up with her.

"No fire. Just don't want to miss the bus." She kept her eyes forward. Warren was the last person she wanted to see at the moment, at least until she'd had time to calm down and dissect the situation.

"Uh, I can give you a ride, you know."

She kept walking. "No, I need the fresh air. I'll see you tonight?"

"You sure?" He frowned as Max waved him off. "Nothing's wrong?"

"I'll see you tonight," she insisted and busied herself with a book from her bag.

"Okay," he drew the word out, but pulled away slowly, as if waiting for her to change her mind.

She waved him off again and he drove away.

Max exhaled, as if all of her breath was waiting for the moment he left.

The bus ride back was hauntingly long, as if everything was moving in slow motion. She knew nothing about babies. She was an only child and both her parents were only children. Her experience with children ran the limit at screaming toddlers in the grocery store. And Warren, she couldn't imagine him with a child either. Half the time she had to remind him where his textbooks or shoes were and he was terrified of anything bigger than an ant. The thought of him being responsible for someone else seemed practically impossible.

She didn't know what she wanted to do after high school. College, of course. Travel the world, maybe. She liked having choices, potential, everything a roadmap with limitless paths before her.

Warren had had his life mapped out since he was six. College courses, internship ideas, ideal companies he wanted to apply to.

Neither of them had thought about what that meant for them, after high school, after college. Neither of them had mentioned _hey, if we accidentally get pregnant, this is what we're going to do._ It was not one of the choices, one of the plans.

 _Can we figure it out?_

They were always trying to figure it out.

"Hey, Max. You okay?" Dana leaned against the open door, worry scrunched between her brows.

Max had practically doused herself in the bathroom sink, trying to splash some kind of revelation or magical answer into her, but all it had done was cool down the flush of her skin.

Now, she felt as if she were burning up again. "I need to talk to you," she said, fanning herself with her hand.

Dana stepped away from the door to let her in. "Sounds serious. What's up? You need some water or something? You look like you're about to pass out."

"No, I'm fine. I just...I have to ask you something." She pushed aside the magazines on the sofa and collapsed onto it.

"Okay, spill." Dana sat beside her, frowning at Max as if she thought she might explode.

She felt like she might.

"You know a few months ago, when you were pregnant...how did you know?" She stared down at her hands, at her fingers that twisted and pulled in her lap as if they couldn't stay still.

"Max," Dana said, voice hushed, "do you think you're pregnant?"

"I don't know," she choked out and then laughed because never in a million years would she have thought she'd been in this situation. She wished she could have jumped back in time and made Warren hunt down a proper condom. Or just wait till they could buy more.

"Well, how long has it been? Are you late? Do you have any symptoms?" Dana rattled off questions like a checklist and Max felt even more overwhelmed than when she was at Dana's door.

"I'm a little late," she admitted. "By a few days. And I don't know. I'm nauseous and tired and my emotions are kind of all over the place."

Dana let out a huff of laughter, covering her mouth as it slipped out. "Sorry. It's not funny. All good reasons to be concerned. But morning sickness doesn't usually kick in until later, like seven or eight weeks. It's probably not one of the telltale signs."

"So then, what is? One of the signs?"

"Well, this is going to sound weird, but for me it was my boobs. They suddenly felt tingly and achy, like all my nerves were on the outside and everything made them hurt. And I had to pee, like all the time."

"I haven't had either of those," Max said, not knowing whether to frown or smile.

"You know, a lot of times, your period can be late because you're stressed. Also a good reason for being tired, nauseous, and emotional. But you know, the only real way to find out is—"

"Yeah, I know. Get a test," Max said solemnly.

"Have you talked to Warren about it?" Dana asked and tapped her nails against the sofa cushion. "I mean, it is him, right?"

"No, I haven't talked to him. I just...I don't know what to say." Max sighed, even though by this point, she felt as if she couldn't breathe. Everything settled in her chest, thick, muddled, and unbudging.

"Well, it's up to you. But I bet he would want to know. And I bet he'd want you guys to work it out together."

"Do you regret...you know, with Logan?" Max asked.

Dana pursed her lips, her eyes darkening over with the memory. "No. He wasn't supportive, not then. And he wouldn't have been if I'd let him. He was always just a step too late with the guilt trip." She forced a smile on her face and shook her head. "But we're not talking about me. We're talking about you. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Max confessed, biting her lip. "I don't think I could...you know. But I don't think I could tackle raising a kid. Not right now. I don't even think I could tackle pregnancy." The very idea seemed like a foreign planet to her, as if it was Jupiter hanging far above her reach.

"Nobody ever thinks they can before they're ready. I definitely didn't."

"What made you decide...not to?" Max asked. She'd tugged on her bottom lip so much it was raw now.

Dana sighed, fingers resting at her temples while she thought. "I tried to see myself in five years, three, one. To see which path I could tolerate the most. This was the one that stuck. And it's not...it's not easy, whichever choice you pick. There's always going to be a 'what if' scenario flashing through your head. There's always going to be something clawing away at your guilt." Her hands fell back into her lap. "Do you want me to get a test with you?"

"No," Max replied. "I think I can handle doing it."

"Let me know if you need anything. Even if it's just to talk."

"Of course." Max rose from her seat, looking towards the door. Warren would be by her room any minute and if ever there was a time to tell him, this would be it.

He was already by her door by the time Dana's closed behind her, phone in hand as if he were about to text her. "Oh, hey. I was wondering if something came up. You didn't answer."

"Sorry, I was just hanging out with Dana for a bit. Lost track of time. You ready to go?" Max asked, nibbling at her lip again. She yelped when she touched a tender spot.

"Whoa, what's wrong with your lip? It's all swollen and bloody." Warren reached towards her and his thumb brushed under her bruised lip as he examined it.

"Is it?" She rushed to the bathroom, wetting a paper towel and blotting at it. _Get yourself together,_ she told her reflection, who looked far more like a ghost than the Max on the other side. There were circles under her eyes and her complexion was pale with flushes of heat high on her cheeks. She looked deranged. She felt deranged.

"Max?" Warren called from outside the restroom. "You okay? You need help or something?"

"I'm fine," she answered. Her voice reverberated shakily over the tiled walls. She even sounded deranged. She wiped again at her lip, which had stopped bleeding and was back to looking raw.

Warren was frowning at her as she stepped out. He took her by the chin and carefully tilted it upwards to examine her lip again. "So you gonna tell me what's up?" he murmured.

"Just stressed. Bit my lip too much. It's no big deal." She shrugged, reaching up to tug his hand away.

"Stressed about what? Max, seriously. If there's something wrong, you can tell me. Whatever it is. I don't know how to help if I don't know what's wrong." He lowered his hand.

"Let's go. I'll tell you about it afterwards, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that," he replied, forcing a smile. It looked entirely wrong on his face.

Max dug her hands into her coat pockets, glaring up at the night sky above them as they made their way back to the dorms.

"Jupiter's out again," Warren said, following her gaze. He pointed to the right of a tree and there it was, a telltale glow of orange.

"I wonder what it'd be like to be up there," she mused. "Someplace far from Earth, away from trivial shit like school and trying to figure out what's the best way to slave away your life to pay bills and taxes."

Warren let out a dry laugh. "Well, on Jupiter, you'd be crushed by the pressure, first of all. There's no oxygen, so you couldn't breathe. And the radiation would probably completely dissolve your dead and frozen body. All in all, a nice dramatic death."

"Well, it is Jupiter, after all. Go big or go home," she deadpanned. "But I didn't mean there. Just...I don't know. Floating in space or something."

"There are stories of astronauts who go insane in space," Warren mused and she rolled her eyes.

"Just work with me for a minute here," she said, smiling even as she tossed her hands in the air.

He reached up and grabbed one of her hands, lacing his fingers through hers. "Need me to build you a thinking rocketship? A place where you can just 'float in space or something'?"

"Yes, get right on that, Doctor Graham. And make sure you defy the laws of physics and give me a supply of non-dehydrated food. That'd be great, thanks."

"You mean something besides hot fries and Coke? Because I don't know if you can consider hot fries non-dehydrated food. Or Cheetos. Technically—"

Max spun around, capturing his lips so quickly that he stumbled backwards. She grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back towards her, wrapping the fabric around her knuckles as she kissed him.

His hands rose hesitantly to her shoulders, grasping them to keep his balance as he strived to match her pace.

Her lips moved urgently, frantically, struggling to find something more than the pain of her injured lip, more than the pressure in her chest that beat erratically.

It was only when his fingers brushed against her cheeks, trailing wet streaks across her skin that she pulled back, a sob bursting free, just as ugly and raw as her lip felt.

"Hey," Warren whispered, wiping more of her tears away and then pulling her against his chest. "What is it?"

"I can't do this," she mumbled into his shirt and he stroked her hair as he hushed her.

"Do what?" he asked. When she didn't answer, his hands stilled, fingers caught midway through her hair. "You mean us?

"No," she replied. She shook her head and freed his hand. "I just...this is big. Like astronomically big. Like 'unable to accurately comprehend' big."

"Okay," he said, tilting her chin so that she was looking upwards at him. "I think I've got it. So are you going to tell me _what_ is so fantastically big?"

She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, the cold air burning in her throat and eyes. She forced her eyes open again. "I could be pregnant."

"You could be...pregnant," he repeated and his hands loosened around her. He blinked down at her, mouth agape before closing and falling open again, as if it couldn't stay closed.

"I told you it was big," she murmured and a low guttural sound escaped his mouth. "You don't have to do anything. I can...I can figure it out. I'm sure my parents will help me. My dad's going to _kill_ me, but we'll figure something out."

"Max," Warren cut in, his voice now several octaves higher. "No. No, we figure this out together. I'm not going to just leave you out in the cold or something. I mean, are you sure?" He blinked down at her then shook his head. "No, you said you _could_ be, which means you're not sure. Okay. Okay, we... Okay. Okay."

"Okay," Max repeated, a slight smile on her face and Warren wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly enough to cut off her air supply.

"Warren," she squeaked out and he loosened his grip some.

"Oops, sorry. I just...I'm freaking out a little bit here." He let out a sharp laugh that rose another octave higher. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have let us keep going without a condom."

"No, I was the one who said it was okay," she reasoned, wishing again, that she could jump back in time and smack herself.

"I wasn't exactly arguing against you," he pointed out. "Are you okay? Like, are you puking your guts up or anything?"

"No, apparently that doesn't happen until like the seventh week or something," she recalled.

Warren peered down at her, as if by looking at her he could discern whether she was or not. "So what makes you think you are?"

"I'm late. Tired. Nauseous. Emotional train wreck. Possibly just stressed." Her shoulders sagged and her feet ached. She felt as if she couldn't stand anymore. She pulled out from Warren's embrace and headed over to a nearby bench, the wood cold against her legs as she sat down.

"Late?" he asked, confused and still standing where she'd left him.

"My period's late," she clarified.

"Okay, so we get a test and then...I don't know, go ahead and build that thinking rocketship. We're going to need it." He collapsed on the bench next to her.

She dropped her head into her hands as Warren drilled his fingers against the space between them. "What do we do?" she asked.

"Whatever you want to do," he replied, almost automatically. His fingers drummed faster, practically in time with her runaway pulse. "Okay, so I'll pick up a part-time job and save up some money. Summer's coming up soon, so I can work full-time then. And if you want to keep it, I can find us a place. If you still want to go to school, we can find a place close to campus, one that has a daycare, maybe, or I don't know, maybe one of our parents can help us out with babysitting. Or we can hire one. Or maybe I'll just take it with me to class. Put it in a little radioactive-proof babysuit or something." His eyes were growing wider and wider as he spoke, his fingers practically drilling holes into the bench.

Max reached over and grabbed his hand, stilling it. "If I don't want to?" she asked, barely more than a whisper.

"Then I'll help pay for that, too. Whatever you want," he said and squeezed her hand.

"What about us though?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes growing wide again.

"Do you still want to be...together after this? Even if I'm not pregnant?"

He let out another guttural sound. "Why would I not want to?" he finally managed to ask.

"I don't know. Too much pressure. Too weird." She shrugged.

"Too ridiculous," Warren added. "You are, I mean. Look, Max. I like you. I like you a lot. Like it actually kind of scares me how much I like you."

A pained smile crossed over Max's face as she nodded. "I like you, too," she confided but he shook his head.

"No, I mean, I..." He exhaled sharply, folding his hands behind his head as he stared forward. "I wouldn't mind if, even you're not preg...expec...with...this...you wanted to be together after we graduate. I don't know. It's kinda soon. But if you wanted to, we could talk about it. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you wanted me to be your boyfriend. It might even be the best thing."

"Might be?" Max prodded, her smile growing slightly. There was a small flash of panic at the thought of being with Warren at college, especially when they'd only been together for a month or so. But having the option brought out a flutter of something different. Excitement, maybe.

"I would die a happy man," he confessed.

"I don't even know where I'm going to school yet," she said.

"That's okay, too. If you want to stay together, we can figure it out. Even if we're at other sides of the country."

"You're very optimistic," she stated, but the excitement was fluttering even more.

"I'm a pragmatic at everything except matters of the heart." He frowned. "I'm kind of hopeless at that. But I like being with you and I would really like to keep seeing you." He shrugged, as if she'd told him she wasn't really a fan of avocados.

"We can figure it out?" she asked and he looked over, smiling vaguely.

"Yeah. We most definitely can," he replied. He placed a kiss against her forehead.

"Good, because I think I'd like to have my boyfriend hanging around for a bit longer. He's a pretty cool guy."

He laughed against her forehead, his breath tickling her eyelashes as it fanned across her face.

"Okay, so just stick it under your legs and pee on it," Warren instructed. He unfolded the accordion of instructions as he reread them for the fifth time.

"I think I got that part. Do I have to hold it a certain way?" Max called out from the other side of the stall.

"Uh." Warren tilted the diagram before him, squinting at the picture of the test which seemed to be held straight under a series of dots that could only symbolize urine. "Hold it straight?" he responded, tilting the diagram a different way. "You know it might help if this thing actually looked like a vagina. Slightly less confusing."

"Why would it matter? It's not like you're sticking it up there."

"Good point, good point. Are you done yet?"

"Yeah, just give me a second." She flushed the toilet and came out from behind the stall, placing the cap back on the test.

"Okay, give it here." Warren gestured with gloved hands and Max barely held back her laughter while she offered it to him.

"Where did you get those? Why do you have those?" she managed to ask between wheezes.

"The science lab, where else? I don't want to contaminate anything."

"Oh my god, Warren." She was unable to hold back her laughter anymore and he frowned as she broke down into hysterics.

"Hey, I don't know how these things work. I'm just trying to help."

"I don't think you can rub your DNA on it like that," she said and wiped tears from her eyes. "It only tests the hormone in your pee. You're safe, you big weirdo."

"All right, well, let's get this show on the road then," he replied, leading the way back to her room, the test hidden in his gloved fist.

"So, what now? Just wait?" Max asked as he set the test on her dresser, out of eyeshot for both of them.

"Yeah, three minutes. I'll set the timer on my phone." He pulled it up on his phone while Max paced the room, stopping to glance outside the window.

"You think Jupiter's still out there?" she asked.

"It's not exactly something that can go _poof_ that quickly," he answered. He snapped the gloves off and tossed them into the trash can.

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, do you think you can still see it?"

He leaned over her shoulder, following her gaze out the window. "Not from this angle. But if you could, it would probably be right...there." He lifted her hand, tapping one finger against the glass slightly below the glare of the sun. There was nothing there but the blur of clouds against the sky. But she closed her eyes and imagined it anyway—the small orange glow, unwavering beneath the glimmer of neighboring stars. It was slightly comforting to know that even in a sea of blue and white, when nothing was ever certain for very long _(is it going to rain today? Will March be cold or warm this year?),_ at least Jupiter was there, orange and glowing and probably safe for a few more hundred eons.

The ringing of a timer sounded, shrill and sharp behind them. Max let her hand drop heavily to her side and turned to face Warren, a terrified smile frozen at his lips.

"Ready?" he asked, squeezing her hands.

"No," she said, letting out a short bark of laughter. "But let's do this."

"We'll figure it out," he reminded her.

"Yeah," she said, squeezing his hands back. "We'll figure it out."


End file.
